The way the organisers tell it, the Oscars ceremony is vital to the US’s sense of it itself – like cheap gas, or getting mired in faraway wars, or getting mired in faraway wars for cheap gas. The zombie statistic that a billion people will be watching the Academy Awards on Sunday night staggers on. Last year, US ratings were a record-low 26.5 million – with honourees reminded constantly of this non-fact. Their speeches therefore can – indeed, must! – be read as the considered outreach of people deciding precisely what they want to say to the global community of African miners, Indonesian fishermen, Chinese farmers and so on making up the imaginary viewing figures.

And yet, there is a strong sense that the Academy couldn’t organise – how to put this? – couldn’t organise a movie awards ceremony in Hollywood. As you may recall, one of its most cherished affectations is to have an international accounting firm auditing it. And, two years ago, a senior PricewaterhouseCoopers partner gave the wrong best picture envelope to Warren Beatty – who duly palmed the weirdness off on Faye Dunaway (like a Warren Beatty character wouldn’t have done). If you are wondering “how hard can getting the right winner actually be?”, the answer is reflected in the fact that, last year, PwC’s global chairman personally took charge of the backstage admin, to oversee the process of not cocking up this preposterously simple task. I’m paraphrasing for him. What he actually said in one of his pre-Oscars interviews – even the accountants are on the Oscar interview circuit – was that PwC had been very busy “practising the what-ifs”.

This year, the Academy has been consumed by a different set of bonkers what-ifs. Such as, what if we literally gave the award for best cinematography off-screen? After a significant backlash, this decision has now been reversed. As, too, has the announcement that there would be a new awards category: outstanding achievement in popular film. This was a way of dealing with the fact that half of the top 16 movies of 2018 were superhero movies, which the Academy feels it couldn’t possibly honour. Indeed, the only things it has traditionally felt even worse about honouring are comedies. (Although it’s arguably unsurprising that people who regard weight gain as the highest form of acting should be afraid of comedies. Ridicule is an existential threat.)

Another what-if that seems to have gone the distance is the plan to bring in outside voices to boost the best picture nominees. Consequently, among others, Serena Williams is due to talk about A Star Is Born. I mean, I like Serena, but I want to hear this about as much as I want to hear Bradley Cooper commentate on the French Open final. (Incidentally, if you’re thinking, “Actually, I would sort of like Bradley Cooper to commentate on the French Open final,” it is absolutely fine that you don’t like sport. But even though tennis is sort of sport-for-people-who-don’t-like-sport, your quirky commentary picks should not get to ruin perhaps the purest of all the grand slams.)

The biggest what-if, however, is the decision to proceed without a host. Following a homophobia storm, the booked host Kevin Hart was stood down, and there now won’t be a host at all. Or maybe there will! Because rumours are swirling, in that way of rumours, that Whoopi Goldberg is stepping into the breach at the last moment. Speculation as to who will host the Oscars feels as meaningful as speculation about who will captain the England football team: insanely obsessed over by some, yet with all the operational force of a regimental goat. The Italians have done perfectly well over the years with the convention of simply giving the armband to the oldest guy on the pitch. Were the Academy to do the same, this year’s host would be best supporting actor nominee Sam Elliott.

And you know, I’d watch that. But if not, instead of doomed attempts to reach the youth, the Oscars should always be presented by a batshit Hollywood elder who will just say whatever they want and to hell with it. The ultimate choice would be Proper Celebrity Shirley MacLaine. Of all the myriad takes on the Moonlight/La La Land fiasco, Beatty’s big sister’s was the most amusing. “I think we’re all still processing the horror of it,” reflected Shirley a week after the catastrophe. “I’m concerned with how [Warren] must have felt, being so close to him. I’m three years older and I’m protective. We know how difficult it was for him, but it was also for me.” Absolutely. We’ll probably never know the full victim count that night, but let us hashtag eternally with all of them.

In the end, the most glaring what-if on Sunday night will be the section we might refer to as “absent friends”. This isn’t a reference to the in memoriam reel of actors who have died in the past year, but rather to the various gentlemen who are unable to be at the ceremony on account of the fact they are accused of multiple sex crimes. Your Harvey Weinsteins. Your Kevin Spaceys. Your Bryan Singers. What if … what if we just didn’t mention them, even though, in the case of Singer, a film that is basically theirs is up for five Oscars?

For all these self-satirising what-ifs, it should be noted that the Oscars does well at other award ceremonies. Last year, the director of the Oscars telecast won an Emmy for it. Indeed, it tells you just how much the Oscars backs itself that it insisted on running an Emmy campaign even for the aforementioned 2017 telecast. If you want to see the phrase “For your consideration” stretched to its limits, then imagine it being applied to the image of La La Land’s producer having to call the Moonlight team out of the audience with the deathless salutation: “This is not a joke.” What can you say? Other than: permission to disagree?

You’ll never make Shakespeare: Ben Affleck as Ned Alleyn in Shakespeare in Love. Photograph: United Archives GmbH/Alamy Stock Photo/Alamy

Harvey offers a Shakespearean revenge drama

How intriguing to hear from Harvey Weinstein, whose public utterances these days are almost non-existent. The disgraced former mogul was prompted to make a statement this week by a Gwyneth Paltrow profile in Variety. In this, the Shakespeare in Love star had recalled of that movie’s casting: “Harvey wanted Ben Affleck to take over and play Shakespeare. I said: ‘No, you can’t do that. You have to have an English person.’” The role of Shakespeare was played by Joseph Fiennes, while Affleck did a scenery-chewing turn as a self-centred actor.

Still, did you ever hear the like? Weinstein certainly never heard the like. “Gwyneth Paltrow is an excellent actor and a fantastic person, who does so well when on the right project,” he said in a statement via his publicist. “The only other contenders for the role of Will Shakespeare were Russell Crowe and Ethan Hawke, no one else. Ben Affleck did a terrific job as Ned Alleyn, which is the role he was considered for.”

Mmmm. Quite a lot to unpack there, considering Paltrow’s interview also reiterated the allegations of sexual misconduct she had previously levelled at Weinstein. Those, he declines to correct. He does, however, take the time to praise her as “a fantastic person”. If, like me, you have not been accused of sexual misconduct by any of the fantastic persons in your life, then this might seem a slightly strange thing to say. But perhaps Weinstein currently has two categories for women. They are: “Women who have accused me of sexual misconduct or much worse who are mad”, and “Women who have accused me of sexual misconduct or much worse but who I totally think can be brought back round in due course”. Optimistically, he seems to place Paltrow in the latter category.

However, the main takeout from his statement is how well Harvey’s rehab seems to have gone. God has granted him the serenity to accept the things he can’t change, and the courage to change the things he can. So he accepts that everyone thinks he’s a total sex case, but he will do everything in his power to change the perception that he would ever – and I mean ever – cast BEN AFFLECK as a LEADING MAN. You can say a lot of stuff about Weinstein, but you don’t get to say that.